Cloud Chief has always been my favorite home town
Even if I go east, west, north, southwest, up or down
But now it is time for this tired Cloud Chief sight-seer
To find the trail back home in time to have a root beer.
But maybe tomorrow around noon I'll attempt to be back
With my camera in hand and a tasty treat in my gunnysack
And if a tornado don't show up and the creek don't rise
I will be looking for familiar places and maybe a surprise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem